Choice of Words
by Nayuki-Bunny
Summary: Was that really what he had wanted to say?


**Hey there everyone! Well this is a fic that sprung from dandelion-heart's and my tourney under the category "fluff." I think it succeeded in that respect, its very sweet (I'd like to think so). As for where this falls on the Air timeline, I got lazy and didn't bother aiming for a certain place, but I think around Misuzu's birthday? Anyway, I hope you like it!**

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"Just try it-"

"No."

"But you might-"

"No."

"Yukito-kun-"

"NO."

"…uu…"

It was too hot.

He could feel the perspiration sliding uncomfortably down his throat and chest, hair damp and face warm, and he desperately wished it was winter. He slid his tongue over dry lips. Cold snow and icicles hanging from trees. The world suspended in a state of white; he could practically feel the frigidness against his cheek- A soft murmur interrupted his thoughts, asking him if he was sure, and the burning air and humidity quickly reminded him of its presence. He groaned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and tilting his head lower.

"Ano…Yukito-kun?"

He grunted in response, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged on the high wall and facing forward. The open expanse of ocean before him was tinted orange and the summer light sparkled brightly, rippling with the water. A pair of scuffed sandals shuffled uncertainly next to him, the sound layering over the muted sound of crashing waves and fading into his subconcious. The pleading voice spoke up again, but he couldn't convince himself to ignore it, knowing full well the result would be an unexplainable and insuppressible guilt in the pit of his stomach.

_She's still trying to kill you, though._

He snorted at the exaggerated thought, causing the source of the pleading voice to flinch slightly and hiccup in midsentence before falling silent. He ignored this still, and leaned back on his hands to shoot a glare at the setting sun, the cause of his current problems, and cursed under his breath its heat and the stupid black shirt he was wearing.

The girl started to say something again, then paused a moment before sighing as though admitting defeat. Exhaling an _eishu _as she seated herself next to him, she dusted off her white skirt and swung her legs childishly, fascinated all of a sudden with the sand below their perch overlooking the sea and nowhere near his general direction. He snuck a sidelong glance at her and saw that she was still holding the object of death, the other one poised at her own mouth. He felt his face twist involuntarily into a grimace.

"Guh."

She turned to look at him, face questioning at his remark before trying in vain to smother the giggles tumbling over her hands at his expression. He glared at her, but without real menace, and her laughter gradually quieted to a smile. She was still watching him with amused blue eyes and he looked away, suddenly embarrassed and his heart twisting. She seemed to understand this (she always understood the small, strange things, he thought) and placed the item next to her and away from her mouth, watching her legs swing back and forth again. But she scooted closer, cautiously, and he pretended not to notice this, instead looking at the curling golden strands that glowed in the sunset next to his hand. He looked up unexpectedly and she blushed upon catching his gaze, averting hers quickly and narrowing it into a glare aimed at the pale skin of her knees. He watched her nose wrinkle as she glared and smiled.

"Oy," he said.

"Mm?"

She didn't lift her head, still glaring at her legs.

"Why were you giving me that stuff anyway?"

She blinked at the question, then absently started to fiddle with the hem of her skirt.

"Yukito-kun said he was hot, so I thought it would cool him down…"

"You know I hate it."

"But…I still thought…g-gao- kya!"

She clutched her head where he had hit her gently and muttered something, stealing a furtive glimpse at him.

"I thought you broke that habit."

"Gao…ah!"

She ducked, covering her head defensively and he couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing around them and into the dusky clouds. She seemed slightly surprised at his reaction, turning to face him with a strange expression (relief?) but her small face quickly broke into a smile and she beamed at him appreciatively. He felt the same sensation flutter in his chest and quickly shook his head, pushing hair out of his eyes and, to alleviate the awkward tension, mentally urging himself to do the first thing that came to mind.

Reaching over the girl's lap to her apparent confusion, he grabbed the small, untouched package beside her and ripped open the plastic. As fast as he could, he stuck the straw in and squeezed the juice box, trying not to gag as the sickly sweet goo slid down his tongue. She was staring openly now, mouth in an "o" and hand slightly outstretched as if to stop him. He clenched his eyes shut and continued to chug the viscous liquid, gasping for air as he finally finished and slammed the box down onto the concrete between them.

"Waah," she said, clapping her hands together in applause as he attempted to catch his breath. "That was amazing, Yukito-kun; I can't even drink it that fast! You must be an expert at drinking sake!"

He choked slightly at her statement and she laughed again, wind chimes in the evening, insisting she was only kidding. As his breathing eased (and he wondered how large the bonfire would be where he would burn all of that blasted juice), he noticed that she was being unusually quiet, twisting her hands in her lap and watching the fingers mesh, the wrists idle.

"What is it?" he asked, knowing this was her way of keeping something to herself.

She jumped slightly at his words, hands stopping to lay listlessly. Eyes still on her hands, her lips parted, opening and closely but the empty air filling with the sounds of water and sand. Biting down her her lip after a minute of what seemed to be self-debate, she turned to look at him fully in the face, an expression akin to determination creasing the corners of her eyes. He blinked at this (was her face really red or was it the afternoon light?).

"Well, what is it?" he found himself asking, dully noting the way the light cast shadows over her mouth and brow.

Her face faltered as he spoke and she swallowed, dropping her eyes to his hand and studying it, her own fisting into the material of her skirt. She shook her head finally and turned away. He didn't know what exactly to make of this (his mind quickly dismissing any answer it had to offer), but he instinctively reached out toward her, letting his fingers brush over her shoulder.

"Ne, Misuzu."

She looked up at the mention of her name and let him lift his hand to her head, ocean-colored orbs watching him closely.

"What?" she asked softly.

He didn't move, contemplating the silky texture of her hair. What indeed? What did he want to tell her? She was looking at him with her customary innocence, but there seemed to be something else in her face as well... His heart clenched again and he smoothed her hair once before pulling away and turning to watch the waves ebb and flow from the shore.

"You're a good kid, Misuzu."

He thought he saw her expression waver, but she smiled an instant later and said something he didn't hear. Standing up and taking his hand in both of hers, she pulled him to his feet, saying something about it getting dark and Haruko waiting. He let her tug him along, her small hand folded in his, and wondered again and again as the night beckoned the hums of cicadas.

Was that really what he had wanted to say?

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**Well that's it; I hope you enjoyed your daily dose of fluff for today! Reviews are very much appreciated!**


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